


All We Need Is A Stream

by princesskay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Established Relationship, Fishing, Hand Jobs, HardAtWorkChallenge, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Will's job to catch dinner; it's Hannibal's job to reward him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All We Need Is A Stream

The ebb and flow of the river was a sound Will could lose himself in for hours. The pull of his fingers at the line, and every tiny nudge on the bait he could sense were tuned instincts he'd sharpened since childhood, now more of second-hand thought than concentrated effort.

Their cabin was nestled in a dense section of Tennessee woods; Will had insisted upon the location because of the walking distance to the stream. The pleasant chirp of birds, the whistle of wind through the trees, the rays of sunshine past the branches, and the ever-present rush of water gave their secret home an idyllic sense. Far beyond the concrete of civilization, far beyond the FBI, far beyond dinner parties and opera houses, far beyond blood and death.

Will's eyes jarred open when he heard Hannibal calling to him.

He squinted against the sunlight to see Hannibal at the edge of the stream.

“Anything biting?”

“Fishing takes time and patience.”

Hannibal pursed his lips over a snarl of impatience. They'd been here long enough for him to grow possessive, and long enough for Will to start to enjoy it – and capitalize upon it.

“I'm hard at work, catching our dinner.” He remarked, “Would you rather drive twenty minutes into town to buy something farm-raised from the market?”

“Of course, I prefer free-range.”

Will chuckled at the implication of Hannibal's response. His smile faded as Hannibal bent over, rolled up his pant legs, and dipped his toes into the water.

“What are you doing?”

Will's question went ignored. Hannibal delved his foot into the rushing water, and hissed at the temperature. He stood with his foot planted for a moment before bringing the other foot into the stream.

Will's mouth twisted against a smile as Hannibal picked his way across the stream, holding his hands out to steady himself. The tide of the stream surged around his ankles and calves, and splashed up on his trousers. Hannibal's face twisted in disgust, but he proceeded until he was standing behind Will.

“I have extra waders.” Will said.

“This is good.” Hannibal said, sliding his arms around Will's waist. “I have no interest in fishing.”

“You're going to get wet.” Will murmured.

Hannibal nuzzled against the back of Will's neck, inhaling his scent with a delighted shudder. He dragged Will's ass back against his hips, drawing a chuckle from Will at the feeling of Hannibal's growing erection nudging against him through layers of clothing and fishing gear.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, this time in a thinner, higher tone.

Hannibal's hand snaked under the edge of Will's vest, and delved beneath the waistband of his waders. He gathered Will's shirt underneath his gear, moaning at the first stroke against Will's skin.

“What are you ...” Will's voice faded into a moan.

Without prelude, Hannibal located the band of Will's boxers and quested underneath them. His hand was warm and capable, dragging around Will's cock with a deft, awakening caress.

“Oh, Christ.” Will moaned, his head falling back against Hannibal's shoulder.

He had all but forgotten about the fishing rod in his hand when the line began to jerk and pull against his languid grasp.

“Wait, wait.” Will panted, “I've got something.”

Hannibal's grip tightened around his cock, stroking him mercilessly to erection.

“So have I.” He murmured into Will's throat.

Will opened his eyes, and concentrated on the pull of the line while Hannibal's hand dragged up and down the length of his hard, throbbing cock. With trembling fingers, he pulled delicately at the line, leading the fish toward him so that he could hook it.

“I'm going to lose it.” Will panted, “Our dinner is getting away.”

“Then don't lose it.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on the vibrations of the line. The fish was still following, nibbling at the bait.

Hannibal's breaths were like fire against Will's neck. One hand gripped Will's waist, holding him trapped against Hannibal's hips while his fist worked faster and faster over Will's cock, pulling the need taut and tingling low in Will's belly.

Will's breaths came fast and shallow, his thoughts reckless with desire. He struggled to maintain the slow reel of the line toward him.

“Hannibal ...” He moaned, hips lurching against the clutch of Hannibal's palm.

His fingers clenched around the fishing rod and the line, and his hips drew taut against Hannibal's body as the tingles swelled through his belly and cock. Hannibal's hand stroked him to the peak of exquisite ache, and drove him over the edge of sweet, pulsing pleasure. Hot moisture spilled over Hannibal's knuckles, soothing the demanding pace of his fist over Will's throbbing, jolting cock. Will's face twisted as the jarring pleasure rolled like lighting through his chest, into his belly, and out through his aching cock. The spasms came hard and deliberate, throwing Will's mind far from the stream, far from catching dinner. By the time the storm of pleasure abated, he was sagging against Hannibal and holding the fishing rod in lax, trembling hands.

“Oh, God ...” Will panted.

Hannibal withdrew his hand, and bent to wash it in the water.

Will swayed against the surge of the stream, his mind tilting with pleasure, ears ringing.

“It got away.” He said, “Good job.”

Nonplussed, Hannibal made his way back toward the shore. Even with his back turned, Will could sense the wolfish smile on his lips.

He stepped up onto the grass, and turned to cast Will a devilish wink.

“Then you should get back to work.”

He strode toward the cabin, his chin held high. Absolutely pleased with himself.

“Hey, I've got come in my shorts now, if you hadn't noticed.” Will shouted.

Hannibal kept walking.

Will muttered a curse, but as he pulled the line back in to bait the hook, he was fighting a smile. He'd stand in this stream all day trying to catch just one fish if it meant having Hannibal's hands on him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://relentless-fire.tumblr.com//)!


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